Future, past and the many lost
by Catching A Common Cold
Summary: The boy tuned around a small bend and into another empty street while glancing around. Steadily, he walked to the end of the street and turned into a small gate that was hidden beneath vines of rose and weed. This was the Godrics Hollows Cemetery.


**Written **_**for BlueEyes444**_** 100 challenge forum. **

**Prompts: Cover, lie, freefalling.**

**Characters: James Sirius and Sirius.**

The streets were dark and empty of movement as dawn approached, setting a small, barely there light across the hill that rose behind the small town of Godrics Hollow. Snow covered the grounds in thick piles, casting a fairytale like scene across the ancient town. Street lights lit the small, brick buildings and the worn pavement. In a few hours, this street would be filled with chatting women carrying shopping bags, children running in between legs and begging for sweets, and laughing men and clapping each other on the back, heading for the local pub or sports store. But for now, everything was quiet, peaceful and safe.

A cat suddenly streaked across the road in a start as a hooded figure emerged from a small alleyway. The figure passed under one of the street lights and his appearance was seen. Dark hair scattered across his forehead, the rest of the mess covered by a black, hooded jumper, which had been thrown over a white t-shirt and checked blue pants. His eyes were a light brown and reflected some unknown emotion that seemed to be troubling him.

The boy pulled up slightly, tuned around a small bend and into another empty street while glancing around. Steadily, he walked to the end of the street and turned into a small gate that was hidden beneath vines of rose and weed. This was the Godrics Hollow Cemetery.

The figure slowly walked through the graves, peering at the names carefully, clearly looking for someone 's name amongst many grave stones that covered the ground.

Finally the boy stopped at one of stones that read:

**Sirius Black**

**1959 – 1996**

**Godfather to Harry James Potter**

**Loved and respected**

_**Let them call it Mischief: When it is past and prospered, t'will be virtue**_

**R.I.P.**

Lowering himself to the ground, he sat in front of the grave, drawing a wooden stick from his pocket and waving it in the air in a circular motion. All of a sudden, a single rose appeared in the boy's hand and he laid it against the rough dirt that surrounded the grave stone. Lightly, he brushed his eyes, whipping away unshed tears and stood quickly. Suddenly a hand clamped on his shoulder, and the boy spun around to come face to face with an older man, who smiled sadly at him.

This man, if seen by any of his kind, would be easily recognisable. This man was a wizard. Black, shaggy hair crowded his head and his eyes were a bright emerald. Glasses sat on his nose and smile lines marked his eyes and mouth. This man was Harry Potter.

"James," Harry sighed, clapping James shoulder once more. James whipped his eyes again.

"I know, Dad, I know. I'm not meant to be here. But I can't help it, I want to visit him."

James Sirius Potter was talking about his father's Godfathers, and one of his namesakes, Sirius black. Harry moved to stand beside him, looking down in deep emotion at the grave stone.

"You know your mother hates when you go to the grave yard, James. You know what it does to her. But," Harry added with a sigh, "I'll cover for you."

James smiled slightly up at his father. His father looked back with mock seriousness. "But if I end up on sleeping on the couch, I swear I'll make your life hell."

The two men chuckled, thinking over Harry's inability to lie to the fiery tempered ginger that was James' mother. James sighed.

"I want to bad to meet him, dad," he confessed. "I want to know exactly what he was like, and if I will ever be able to live up to him and your dad, though I know I never will as everyone is always talking so highly about them. Sometimes I just feel like I'm free falling and I have nowhere to land but the one stop that is so far away from where I want to be."

Harry looked at his son in surprise. James Potter was a prankster, he was always smiling and joking, he picked on his siblings and he tricked his mother into a screaming fit; Harry had never seen him as someone unsure of himself.

"James, you are going to be more than both those men, I can feel it. They were amazing men, someone people idolise, but there is _always _a chance for you to do better."

Harry slung an arm across his sons shoulder, bringing his closer to his figure and, together, father and son walked back to their house, thoughts consumed by the future, past and one of the many lost in the great war; Sirius Black.

_**The quote on the grave stone is spoken by **_**George Borrow**_**and was take from the website: **_.#ixzz1J7THn65k

_**Rate, review and tell me what you think of it. **_


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